


The Mind-Body Electric

by Zazibine



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Utopia, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Capitalism, Future Fic, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Loneliness, M/M, Medicine, Self-Indulgent, Slice of Life, Speculative fiction, Tragedy, Worldbuilding, Written for a Class, holograms, if kind of a screwed up one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 11:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27970100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zazibine/pseuds/Zazibine
Summary: The future of medicine has much changed over the years, and finally companies have a reason to invest in healthcare. George only wishes the transition had happened a few years sooner.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	The Mind-Body Electric

**Author's Note:**

> If the content creators ever express discomfort about being shipped or about the existence of pieces of fiction of this nature, this will be removed immediately.

The glowing blue numbers of his alarm flash once, twice, and then vanish in a flicker of static as George groans and waves his hand through the holographic beams of light, silencing the unholy chiming of his alarm clock. What a lovely way to wake up, ugh. Mumbling into his pillow and already missing its soft warmth, he sets about the awkward process of struggling free of his bedclothes and plush memory foam mattress, which seems determined to swallow him today. Good for his back they said- ha, the company clearly just didn’t want him to wake up on time. Again. Double ugh.

Another several minutes of struggle against his cloth prison and George stumbles free, snagging his white goggles and running a hand through his brown hair as he makes his way to his apartment’s bathroom, absentmindedly turning on the air filters as he goes along. They chime to life with a merry beep and immediately begin chuffing away at cleaning out whatever pathogens and pollutants might have infiltrated his room while he slept. Sidestepping the roomba cutting its swath of cleanliness across the dustless floor, he reaches over and waves a hand over the light switch so that the apartment knows to begin switching from light power to consumer mode. The hiss of the shower greets him as he pushes open the bathroom door, and if he concentrates, he can smell a healthy breakfast cooking on the stove top as he begins undressing. What a way to wake up.

As George prepares to face the day, his home comes to life around him, every aspect painstakingly calculated such to maximize his health and happiness while minimizing the creep factor- not that it’ll ever not be weird to hear the blender start making him a protein shake without anyone to push its buttons. As much as George loved his new company-mandated apartment, it was still awfully odd to live in an environment of constant noise but an utter dearth of actual people making it.

The radio fizzes for a long minute before settling on an old period piece from the early 2000s, and the LED lights embedded in the kitchen walls fill the space with a comfortable pale blue glow. A hatch above the pan on the stove top opens up to sprinkle the scrambling egg whites with a carefully-measured amount of salt and pepper. The little roomba hitches into its charger in the corner with a small click, the window shades draw themselves up to let in enough light to be aesthetically pleasing and while still providing enough vitamin D, and with an electronic chime, a portion of the wall slides away to reveal a terminal and hologram emitter just in time for the shower to turn off with a soft hiss.

George pulls on his blue t-shirt and eyes the self-making breakfast distrustfully as he makes his way into the kitchen, but sighs and sits down all the same, carefully trying to ignore the newly revealed access port.

“George.” The voice is young and yet masculine, almost boyish in its fussy annoyance, but the sharp tang of electronic static ruins the illusion of life. George continues to ignore it, instead choosing to pour himself a glass of sugar-free orange juice. An audio clip of a foot stamping plays behind him at that. “George, c’mon, we can’t keep doing this.” If he stays quiet long enough, maybe the voice will go away? “You know that won’t work on me, right? And they won’t let you into the office without knowing 100% that you aren’t sick or something.” No dice. “C’mon Georrggeeee~ just a little prick and it’ll all be over.” Uggghhhh.

“You never shut up, do you?” he says, turning to face the hologram projecting out from the wall, trying to ignore the way his heart leaps into his throat at the sight of the exasperated smirk.

“Nope! And I’ll keep not shutting up until you get over here and do your scans for the day. I’m already letting you off lightly for starting to eat without getting your nutrient levels assessed first, I can’t let it get out that I’m a soft enough touch that I let you skip your meds too.” The glowing blue figure flickers for a moment before solidifying again into the form of a tall young man wearing a hoodie, jeans, and a simple smiley face mask pushed over onto the side of his head. The logo of the health-branch of the company graces the fabric right above where his heart would be, and George forces his eyes to pass over the twin axes to focus on the beaming smile gracing his freckling face before carefully schooling his own expression into a frown.

“You say that like you can actually do something about it.” The masked man’s smile dims and he shrugs uncomfortably, simulated body language startlingly real as he rocks back and forth on his heels.

“Rude. I mean, I can’t touch you or anything, but I can still be really annoying until you get this check up over with.” George sighs and nods, pushing himself up from his chair and making his way over to the keyboard and terminal in the wall, shoving his white goggles over his eyes as he does so. Immediately everything in the room is covered in a blue and white grid pattern and the simulated hologram, DR34M, gains a new layer of color, dying his skin a human-like tan, his hair blond, and his hoodie and eyes a vivid yellow. George winces at the hue, which DR34M immediately picks up on before closing his eyes in concentration, adjusting the wavelengths of light in his form until the unfortunate yellow shades fade back into more comfortable verdant greens.

“Sorry ‘bout that, I always forget that your color blindness screws with the algorithm.” Ha. ‘Forgets,’ as if DR34M’s memory is anything less than a _3 terabyte hard disk_ at minimum.

“No worries. Let’s just get this over with.” DR34M sobers and nods, a sharp grin crossing his face in a brief flicker as he swipes his hand through the air, summoning a set of data tables showing George’s vitamin and nutrient levels, most common hormones in his bloodstream, and something titled ‘Overall Percentage of Health’ that he’s never gotten a straight answer about. He shuffles back a step and eyes the bar graphs and numbers with keen disinterest, glancing at them from the corner of his eye before turning his gaze back to his simulated companion.

DR34M straightens up, voice going utterly synthetic. “Please insert your hand into the compartment on your right. You will feel a small prick. This is normal, so please do not be alarmed.” As he says it, the grid on the wall warps to allow for a small aperture to appear, in which George reaches to place his hand on the squishy gel pad inside. A jab of pain into where his thumb meets the flesh of his hand and then the soothing cool of a numbing agent and antibacterial spray wipe the sting away. “Thank you. Please remove your hand as I calculate the results. During this time period, I will be unresponsive. Please do not be alarmed.” George does so, waiting breathlessly as DR34M’s form flickers once, twice, and then hangs its head, seeming for all the world as if he has gone to sleep. One exhale, two, and then George goes slack against the wall, struggling not to cry.

The world had changed a lot in the last one hundred years, although he has only been alive long enough to experience the last twenty-four. After a series of pandemics had scored through large chunks of the population, and many of those remaining died due to lack of healthcare or unhealthy living, hundreds of mega corporations found themselves without the cheap and easy labor they were so used to. No longer could they afford to pay their employees a pittance, not when they needed a workforce of hundreds of thousands and the population- once eleven billion strong- was cut down by several million. If they wanted workers, they had to pay enough to convince people to come work for them, and when companies realized that everyone was now shelling out for proper pay, they turned to amenities instead. Ark-Co, the largest manufacturer of biofuels, had found that promising its employees free gas was a wonderful way to get people to stay with them, while others like HEP and Mycill Resist turned to free, beautifully designed homes that matched their employees tastes perfectly.

Healthcare, once a luxury of the rich, became standard as enterprising agencies fought for every able working body fiercely. Even one person not showing up to do their job threw everybody off their game, so it became a race to see who could cut down the number of sick days by the most. A sick employee was one that was not working, so it was in everybody’s best interest that healthy living became mandatory.

First were the pamphlets on proper diet and a monthly grocery budget to make people follow through, but too many people enjoyed their burgers and fries, and even more didn’t know how to cook, so automated kitchens became standard. Then came the blood draws, because how else was the world supposed to know if you were following your diet plan or not? But from there came knowledge of hormone imbalances and chemical evidence of stress, so they had to adjust the work schedules so that people weren’t so stressed that they wrecked their bodies and minds. They went further, then, and physical exercise became fashionable. Soon, everyone was shelling out for the newest yoga instructional vids and virtual track fields.

The E-Life hologram system was simply the next step. A series of holographic people, originally designed as exercise instructors and health advisors, but quickly evolving to include such duties as keeping their patients on track to meet company health and happiness goals and making sure that those in their care had access to whatever treatment and medication they needed. The holograms became so popular and so useful that eventually, companies started simply giving them out to their employees as part of the benefits package.

Is it any wonder, then, that in a culture that so feared disease, that an institutionally-instilled fear of death soon followed? And thus came the final gift (the final curse) of the hologram program.

George feels his eyes sting hotly with tears as he takes a stuttering breath, trying to pretend that he was anywhere but his overly clean kitchen. Tries to pretend that he is back in his past with his real boyfriend, not this long-dead, digital copy of his precious Dream. Tries to pretend that Dream didn't leave him behind, just a few short weeks before the cure to cancer was announced. Tries to pretend that leukemia isn't an awful way to die. Tries to pretend that he is happy. 

As with many things so far today, he fails, and though the graphs flicker and flash with new data detailing his rising distress, he finds himself unable to cry. God. What a way to wake up.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written as an assignment for my Drugs, Science, and Culture class, which wanted a 400 word long speculative fiction piece on what medicine might look like in the future. Since Dream SMP has taken over my brain as of late, it resulted in this. The ratio of plot to world building is also a symptom of this piece's original nature.  
> Also, feel free to use this as a prompt for your own writing or write spin offs and actual endings- collaboration makes my little heart happy.


End file.
